


postscript

by bullettime



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22018315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bullettime/pseuds/bullettime
Summary: v short work i got sad abt alistair
Relationships: Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Surana (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 5





	postscript

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time posting work... ever? concrit would be nice ty 4 reading

His voice echoed in her head, pulsing like a migraine. _If this is what must be… then I have to do it now. I’m sorry._  
  
Thankfully no one outright asks her if she’s alright. Leliana’s worried eyes and Zevran’s careful touch to her shoulder almost made her break down. But she won’t. The Hero of Ferelden should be smiling for the wedding of her compatriot, the new rightful heir to the throne, and the queen consort. So she will. Because she can do nothing but be dutiful to her country.  
  
But no matter how much she tells herself that she can look to the new royal couple and keep a modicum of decency, the moment their eyes met she knew it was all for nothing. King Alistair Theirin with Queen Anora nee Mac Tir smoothly glide down the steps to reach the masses. (Anora glides, Alistair tries very hard to not blush when he almost missed a step.) Surana bows in tradition, but looks up, just hoping for a glance.  
  
She did not expect him to look back, as if haunted by her very existence. Was it pain, dread, regret written in his eyes? Maybe he missed her as much as she missed him? Or was she just projecting onto him? She didn’t know but in those few moments, she felt the whole world collapse around her, encasing only her and him and all the unspoken words between them. She looked down, her eyes misting over the sheer intensity of the gaze.  
  
King Alistair abruptly looks ahead and closes his eyes, as well as his heart. Because now he is nothing without his duty to his country.  
  
Moments like these happen again in the future, but few and far between. Surana will avoid the court as long as she possibly can. When she is called there however, the visits are always succinct. If she leaves on a quest, she returns back to Ferelden to tell the King and Queen of her victories, all won and declared in their names. If she is called because she is technically the arlessa of Amaranthine, she will inform them with an apology of not being able to be there in person starting and ending the very brief letter. If she is called just simply because the two of them missed her dearly, she will smile warmly at Anora but reject any invitation to stay. In all those meetings, she will try and always fail to not meet Alistair’s eyes. And every time, she sees the same amount of anguish, regret, longing. She’ll keep a stiff upper lip, dismiss herself as quickly as possible, and quietly shed her tears in some remote place in the castle. Alistair will just barely be able to contain the ache to call out, to grab her hand, to apologize for even implying that she was less important than Ferelden because without her, he wouldn’t be alive no one would be alive she is the most wonderful thing to ever bless this land and -  
  
There will come a time where these moments become too much for either of them. So she does what she knows. She’ll fight darkspawn, and play the hero for whoever for as long as she can. But even for the greatest heroes, the Calling befalls them. In her head, a new migraine. In her heart, a new ache. Even now she does what she does for him. She rides west. Where she goes, no one’s sure of. She keeps a journal close, the front cover home to a dried rose. Homage to the loved and lost.  
  
She could’ve gone easily back to Ferelden. King Alistair and Queen Anora eagerly await their closest friend. The world needs their hero aiding the Inquisitor. She doesn’t return.  
  
 _To her worship Inquisitor,_  
 _I wish I had helpful information regarding Corypheus, but due to my own limited training during the Blight, I know less of ancient Darkspawn lore than most Wardens. I am engaged in a search of my own. All Grey Wardens who do not fall in battle, eventually fall to something known as the Calling, a magic that preys upon our own connection to the blight and the darkspawn. Rather than such foul magic eventually leading to my death, I am determined to find a way to negate this Calling and save all Wardens from its effects. Part of me wishes that I could help your Inquisition more personally because the danger of Corypheus and the Breach approaches the threat of even another Blight. Regardless, I have my own path to follow, and I must uncover a cure for the Calling if I wish to see ~~my~~ the king and queen ever again. I beg you, keep ~~him~~ the kingdom safe until I can return to ~~his~~ their side._  
 _Warden-Commander Surana of Ferelden_


End file.
